STORIES

An elderly couple, Bert and Edna

are sitting on the porch swing

On a peaceful Sunday evening, Bert and Edna sat side by side on their porch swing, sipping lukewarm tea and watching squirrels wrestle over a Cheeto. Married for fifty-five years, the couple had weathered everything together—from spilled grape soda to spontaneous kitchen slow dances. When Edna suddenly suggested they discuss bucket lists, Bert raised an eyebrow. “At 87? My list ends with remembering where I put my pants.” But Edna was serious. “We should each do one thing we’ve always wanted.” Bert, after some thought, declared he wanted to skydive. Edna blinked. “You fainted tying your shoe last week.” He shrugged. “Just let me land in the neighbor’s yard—I’ve always wanted to haunt him.”

The conversation took a turn when Edna’s eyes lit with mischief. “You know how your recliner leaned left for twenty years? That wasn’t the dog—I jammed a spatula under it after the curtain incident in ’89.” Bert gasped. “You monster!” She wasn’t done. “Remember the remote that only played the Hallmark Channel? I glued a penny inside the battery case. Five years of snowball fights and mistletoe—revenge, my love.” Bert stared, open-mouthed. “Why?” “Because nothing says payback like a Christmas movie marathon.”

Bert leaned back and grinned. “Then here’s my confession—those Saturday fishing trips? Bowling league. I won four trophies.” Edna’s mouth dropped. “I threw a fake trophy out the car window!” They laughed until their sides ached. In the weeks that followed, Bert took a skydiving plunge, Edna bought a new recliner, and every Saturday they bowled together—not for strikes, but to keep each other honest.

Years later, they passed away in a car accident and found themselves at the Pearly Gates. St. Peter welcomed them to a paradise with a dream kitchen, championship golf, and a buffet that defied imagination—all free. Bert, stunned, asked about prices, diets, consequences. St. Peter assured him: no cost, no calories, no cholesterol. Bert’s eyes widened with rage. “Edna! If it weren’t for your bran muffins and paleo chicken, we’d have been here ten years ago!”

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